Showdown at the Docks
"Hey, hey, hey! David Min hasn't left yet, right? Hold him! Hurry up!"
"Who the fuck do you think? No time for questions—grab him!"
"I'm the deputy director of the Secret Intelligence Agency! Detain him right now! And whatever—guns, parasitic creature samples, anything—allow it all in. Just let him enter the country first!"
Yes? Yesss? Has this fucker lost his mind? Listening to that dazed voice, the deputy director felt his blood pressure spike.
"Goddamn it!"
Words weren't getting through. What the hell kind of idiots were these people?
It was already common knowledge worldwide that the rift that appeared in the sky two weeks ago was connected to the Hong Kong incident. A survivor who yachted all the way from Hong Kong here deserved the red-carpet treatment, yet they'd nearly blocked him at the port? When the deputy director heard that, he'd thought he was going mad.
'A live parasitic creature sample? No one's gotten their hands on one of those yet, right?'
And on top of that, a live parasitic creature that came through the rift. As far as he knew, no lab had secured such a sample. It all started when Britain cut ties with the Five Eyes alliance, and now even the US had stopped sharing intel. With no hope of American goodwill, Australia had to conduct its own research on the parasites. There was no way he could let that sample leave for another country.
He'd hopped a chopper to the airport, then straight to Darwin Port. In just four and a half hours, the deputy director arrived at the yacht mooring.
The moment he got there, he spotted the men in black suits and clicked his tongue in frustration. Tsk—they'd beaten him to the punch.
"What the hell are you guys doing here?"
"Well, if it isn't the deputy director of the Secret Intelligence Agency. Weren't you supposed to be abroad? What's this?"
"That's not the point. Why are Security Intelligence Agency agents swarming the place?"
"Swarming? One of our own citizens is having trouble entering the country, so isn't it natural for the Security Intelligence Agency to lend a hand?"
Aw, fu— In his haste, he'd radioed Darwin Port, and the Security Intelligence Agency had intercepted it. The deputy director patted down his jacket lining and shoes, searching for bugs, then gave up and glared at the agents.
No matter the subtle rivalry between the Security Intelligence Agency and Secret Intelligence Agency, wasn't this crossing the line? Officially, the Security Intelligence Agency handled domestic affairs, while the Secret Intelligence Agency managed overseas intel—but the line between domestic and foreign ops was blurry, leading to constant clashes.
Still, wiretapping the deputy director of the Secret Intelligence Agency? That was beyond the pale. He opened his mouth to protest, then swallowed his anger and shut it. No evidence anyway, and complaining here would just admit the Secret Intelligence Agency had been played.
"Shall we take turns? Our agents are already talking to David Min anyway."
"Didn't you break the order first?"
"First come, first served, obviously. If you're scared, barge in and make a scene. If the deputy director crashes the conversation, it'll sure build trust in the Secret Intelligence Agency."
"Fine. Whatever. Do what you want. I'll wait."
The deputy director sighed deeply, straightened his clothes, and sat on a bench, legs crossed. The Security Intelligence Agency jumping ahead wasn't in his calculations, but it didn't matter. The plan wouldn't derail.
"Hello. I'm an agent from the Australian Security Intelligence Agency. Call me Wilson."
"Yeah. Sure. Hello."
"Looks like there was some mix-up with immigration. Your entry's approved now, and all weapons are cleared for import. Oh, but conventional landmines without self-destruct features—we unfortunately have to confiscate those. Even maximizing convenience, those are too risky."
"Fine by me."
Cheol-woo shook hands with the man who'd introduced himself as a Security Intelligence Agency agent and accepted the offer readily. So-called conventional landmines were just a few booby traps jury-rigged from C4 and grenades—nothing he couldn't ditch without regret. Or disassemble, import, and reassemble later.
"What about the parasitic creature samples?"
"Those are hard to bring in domestically. Sell them to us before leaving the port. We'll buy at a fair price."
They were more reasonable than expected? Cheol-woo blinked in surprise. A total contrast to the stonewalling immigration officers. Entry processed smoothly, bending over backward for convenience—it all sat well with him.
"How much are you offering?"
"Why don't you make the first proposal?"
"Eight million dollars."
"Haha. You're joking, right?"
"..."
"..."
The agent chuckled, locking eyes with Cheol-woo—then his expression slowly hardened. David Min was dead serious. Eight million dollars wasn't a joke?
"Dollars meaning...?"
"US dollars. If full US payment's tough, up to half in equivalent Australian dollars and gold."
"Well... hear me out. We're just brokers connecting you to research institutions wanting to buy, so we can't precisely value it—but even high-end, it's not eight million USD. Reselling to them, you'd be lucky to get half."
"Eight million's too much?"
Cheol-woo let out a disbelieving scoff. Eight million dollars—over 10 billion won. He'd brought them hoping to help the government against parasites, selling in good faith. He wasn't giving them away cheap; eight million was the minimum fair price. And they called it expensive?
'They still haven't grasped the situation, huh?'
How often does a person get an X-ray of their head? Without one, no normal person could distinguish these parasites from humans. They could disguise as top officials and collapse a nation from within. A live sample of such deadly parasites—and they were balking at a mere 10 billion won? Not even 100 billion.
"What's your offer, then?"
"One million USD. That's our limit."
"..."
Cheol-woo's brow furrowed. Sure, he could sell at that bargain price, but partnering with an agency too clueless to value the sample? It rubbed him wrong. If it was just this entry issue and no further contact, fine—but that was unlikely. He'd cross paths again buying bunker land, building it, trading mutants as they rampaged.
Plus, handing it to private labs instead of government ones felt off. Untrustworthy.
"Connect me directly to your research institution contacts instead."
"Security policy prevents that. Must go through us. But we'll up it to two million. We're willing to take a loss to secure this sample."
"Why not research it in-house instead of reselling? Comfortable outsourcing critical analysis to civilians?"
"Hahaha. No bio research division in the Security Intelligence Agency. Have to outsource to private firms."
"Negotiations over."
"Pardon?"
"Security Intelligence Agency, but lacking security awareness. Worried the analysis might end up sold to China."
"What the—!"
Ignoring the furious agents, Cheol-woo shook his head firmly. One or two million? He'd sell if they showed strict management and research commitment. But trading with an agency blind to parasite dangers, risking leaks by dumping on private labs? No way. This was the country where he and his sister would put down roots—he couldn't let it go to shit.
"No security issues—all under Security Intelligence Agency control. Rest assured."
"Heard in 2015 you sold Darwin Port's 99-year operating rights to a Chinese firm for peanuts? Naval base nearby, and your agency just watched? Hard to trust your security."
"Th-that was—"
"Eight million dollars. I'll pay and buy the sample."
"...?"
As the agent floundered, a gray-suited middle-aged man burst into the yacht cabin. White beard suggested age, but neatly trimmed and sharp fashion made him look distinguished.
"Hey, interrupting negotiations midstream? Bad manners."
"Deal's already dead. Our turn to offer, no? David Min. I'm the deputy director of the Australian Secret Intelligence Agency."
"Yes. Eight million dollars?"
"Half US dollars, half AUD. Sample goes to our bio lab under strict secrecy. Honestly, eight million's a steal compared to Australia's fate. A true patriot's offer—haggling would be improper."
Finally, someone who got it. A smile crept across Cheol-woo's lips.